


madness

by shackles_of_the_madness, TheLoyalMouse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, mentions of possible viktuurio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shackles_of_the_madness/pseuds/shackles_of_the_madness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoyalMouse/pseuds/TheLoyalMouse
Summary: 1) Viktor x Yuri x Heartbreak





	madness

**Author's Note:**

> enabled by the madness and inspired by this [art](https://68.media.tumblr.com/3233bc4532df23ab22c88296327b7510/tumblr_olqp0uYtFG1w6akx8o2_540.png)

_Yuri_

It’s a goodbye. I’ve known even before I went to catch the old man at the beach. What he had is over. He’s not mine anymore. And I have no idea how I am supposed to hold the pieces of my heart together. They were only glued together with bandaids and hope as it was. Now the latter is gone, and I don’t think there are enough bandaids in this world to stop a broken heart from flying apart.

I can still feel the lingering heat of his fingers on my face. It wasn’t a gentle touch by all means. He was mad at me. I made it so he was mad at me. Hoping that it would make this easier - for him? For me? I can’t tell, but does it really matter?

When I enter the hotel lobby my reflection is thrown back at me by every shiny surface. His marks are on me, shining like beacons in the soft morning light, and I have to close my eyes and swallow hard. A part of me wishes for the reds and purples to bloom. I want them tattooed into my skin, so when I look into the mirror I have visible proof that once he was mine. Once I was his. But just like everything with him, this is temporary. And his fingerprints will fade until nothing is left, just like there is nothing left of him for me to take.

 

_Viktor_

I watch his retreating figure and something inside of me feels wrong. I know I hurt him. How could he not be hurting? I’ve seen it in his eyes. The sadness he will never admit to with words no matter what. Because he’s strong - much stronger than I have ever been.

He’s been fighting for what he wants. Tooth and nails, he’s clawed a Yura-shaped space into my heart. A space that, no matter how hard I try to push him away, will forever be his. A space that is sore and aching now, trying to fill itself with something meaningful, but only cramping around an emptiness that seems to grow with every step he takes away from me.

There’s a fluttering in my chest that grows stronger until I realize it’s panic. Funny, how I almost look at myself from the outside right now. I feel detached from the whole situation, like an observer. All The While, I can feel my heart beating wildly against my ribcage, I feel the clamminess of my hands, the cold sweat on my forehead.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

My legs start moving. Did tell them to? I don’t know. Probably. They’re taking me in the right direction, so I’m not going to complain. The hotel lobby is deserted when I enter through the revolving glass doors, and suddenly it’s like I’m slammed back into my body. I gasp. Blink. And see him standing at the elevator.

I start running.

“Yura.”

He turns around. There’s something in the way he looks at me that is far too old for his age. And it pains me to realize that it was me who put it there. My fault. Mine alone. Like the imprints of my fingers that I can still see on his cheeks.

“What do you want?”

What do I want? The answer is as simple as it is complicated. I tried to choose. I tried to be what everyone expects me to be, but I can’t.

I don’t know if I can be what I really am instead, or what it might cost me. But I understand now that I at least have to try.

“You,” I say and see hope blooming up in the green, green depths of his eyes. Hope that turns into anger the moment I add: “And him.”

I know it’s not fair. I know it, but it’s what I want and I have to figure out a way to make it work - or die trying.

He pushes through the opening doors of the elevator when it arrives. I follow him inside. I expect him to yell at me. To hit me. Anything - but not what he ends up doing.

"Asshole," he grinds out, and I find myself pushed against the wall and kissed so thoroughly that all breath leaves my lungs and I feel like I’m drowning, but I don’t care. Our teeth click and it’s sloppy and messy but oh so perfect. Something, I never thought I would ever experience again. And I don’t know how I could think even for a second that I could do without this. That I could do without _him_.

“Self-righteous son of a motherfucking egomaniac piece of shit”, he growls when he breaks apart for air. “I’m not gonna fuck the Katsudon, and I don’t care how you tell him, but I’m not going to be your side-whore either.”

I chuckle, even though it’s not funny and earns me a punch in the guts. But I’m just so relieved and scared and ridiculously happy.

“No,” I manage to choke out. “I don’t expect you to.”

“Good,” he says and kisses me again. And despite the fact that I have no idea how I am supposed to make this work, I know that it’s been the right decision. Because I’m his just as much as I am Yuuri’s. And he’s mine. "Asshole."

Mine.


End file.
